Traveling Soldier
by Dhampir72
Summary: AU: "I cried, never gonna hold the hand of another guy. Too young, for him they told her, waiting for the love of a traveling soldier." LaviLenalee. Chapter 3 FINALLY up.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Traveling Soldier

**Summary**: AU "I cried, never gonna hold the hand of another guy. Too young, for him they told her, waiting for the love of a traveling soldier." LaviLenalee

**Rating**: PG/PG-13

**Content**: Angst

**Genre**: Romance/Songfic

**Author's Note**: Okay, so I don't really write this pairing. In fact, I really don't like it at all. But I heard this song the other day (a country song, which, again, I don't really like at all) and liked it a lot. For some reason it stuck with me, and I decided to write this.

**pqpq**

_Two days past eighteen  
He was waiting for the bus in his army greens  
Sat down in a booth in a cafe there  
Gave his order to a girl with a bow in her hair_

**August 12****th****, 1965**

The afternoon was brutal hot, the sun beating down relentlessly on those below. Another clear, hot, August day, with the sky so blue and barely any clouds in sight. But it wasn't like all the other clear, hot, August days for one person. He sat on a bench at the bus station, waiting a few hours too early on that too hot day on a semi-empty platform. People nodded to him and he nodded back, flushing slightly in embarrassment. He wasn't used to such attention.

It had to be the fatigues, he presumed, looking down at the green fabric that he wore. Not that he had worn them but only a few days. In fact, just two days prior, on the 10th, he had celebrated his 18th birthday. It was a great celebration (even if it was only him and his grandfather, who had practically raised him after his parents had died): the beginning of a life that was his own to decide whereupon he would take himself. But then the letter came: drafted.

Kicking at the ground a little bitterly, the boy—was he still to be considered a boy, now a man at eighteen?—fingered the handle of his small duffle bag. Green, like the rest of everything he now had. Only this wasn't the nice green that would compliment his eyes. No. It was that sickly sort of green that reminds one of illness in drab fashion.

It was too hot, he thought, wiping the sweat off the back of his neck, touching his hair as he did so. He hoped that they wouldn't make him shave it. But they did it to everyone, and he ran his fingers through the semi-long red strands, knowing that it would be one of the last times he did so.

_Still too fucking hot_, he thought, standing up. His clothes clung to him somewhat, but he ignored them. Across the street from the bus station, there had been a diner. Maybe he would indulge himself and have a lemonade before he was shipped out. Maybe it would be the last lemonade that he had for a long time, at least good lemonade here in the states.

Picking up his bag, the boy slung it over his shoulder and left his bench, shoving his ticket (courtesy of the U.S. Fucking Army) into his pocket, he made his way over to the diner. "Lenny's" seemed like a friendly enough place, so he walked in. A small bell chimed over his head, and the occupants of the room looked up.

Like some people who supported the troops no matter what the idiots in politics did, they nodded their support at him. Others didn't meet his eyes, ashamed. It wasn't his fault, he wanted to scream at them, as he had been forced into this and not worn this uniform voluntarily. It was a war that people didn't want, but then again, what kind of war _did_ people want?

Shuffling off to a corner booth, he tried to hide himself. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea coming to "Lenny's" no matter how friendly it looked or how parched he was from sitting out in the heat. He busied himself with the plastic menu, telling himself that he wanted to eat, when he really didn't.

"Hi, welcome to Lenny's. Can I get you anything?" a sweet voice asked him, pulling his gaze from pancakes and eggs to look up.

It was a girl. A rather beautiful one, he thought. Asian, or at least part. She had that narrowness around the eyes and beautiful creamy skin and that black hair that always looked silky no matter what. That said hair had been pulled up into pigtails so that only her bangs and a few stray strands hung in her lovely face. It was rather heavy on the right side—the falling-out hair, that is—and she had clipped it back with a barrette that had a small bow on it.

_  
He's a little shy so she gives him a smile  
And he said: "Would you mind sittin' down for a while  
And talking to me?  
I'm feeling a little low."  
She said: "I'm off in an hour and I know where we can go."_

He must have been blushing, or looked something close to not being able to answer her, because she gave him a reassuring smile.

"Just a lemonade," he said, and she nodded and went to go get it.

Unable to help it, he watched her trot away, liking the way her small body moved and the way her hair flipped to one side and then the other and then back again. It wasn't long after he ordered that she returned with it and placed it on the table in front of him.

"Is there anything else I can get you?" she asked.

Her nametag said "Lenalee" on it. He thought it was a nice name. And for some reason, he felt strangely at ease all of a sudden and his mouth was moving before his brain could process the words:

"Would you mind sitting down and talking with me for a while?" he asked, managing to give her a small smile before indicating his clothing. "I'm feeling kind of…down right now."

She blushed, but gave him an understanding nod and another smile. It was one of those smiles that made him not care about his ugly uniform or the fact that when he got to training they were going to shave his red hair off or the possibility that he may not live to his nineteenth birthday…

"Sure," she replied, still smiling a nice, light smile. "I'm off in about an hour. I know a place we can go."

**pqpq**

_  
So they went down and they sat on the pier  
He said "I've bet you got a boyfriend, but I don't care.  
I've got no one to send a letter to.  
Would you mind if I sent one back here to you?"_

After she had gotten off work, Lenalee brought him down to the pier where they watched the waves crash against the shore. The sky and water were bright blue, sunny and cheerful, which was everything that he didn't feel at that moment. Although having a pretty girl beside him was making it not as depressing as sitting on that bench had been.

"So what's your name, anyway?" she asked, leaning against the wooden rails.

Her light summer dress was blowing in the breeze. It was cute and yellow with white checkers, like the matching bow in her hair.

"Lavi. Lavi Bookman," he replied.

"I'm Lenalee Lee," she answered, smiling at him as she held out her hand to shake his. "Nice to meet you."

He couldn't help but smile at her gesture, taking her hand. It was so small in his, but strong and warm. It was a hand that spoke of working hard in that little diner and putting all her happiness into serving others. It spoke of warm apple pies and hot coffee and ice cold lemonade. _Home._

"Nice to meet you, too," he said, regrettably having to let go of her hand. It suddenly felt much emptier than before, almost hollow.

Then they were just leaning on the rail, looking out at the water again quietly, feeling the balmy wind breeze by them.

"Sorry I bothered you. I normally don't do things like this...I just…don't know how to explain it…" Lavi said, gripping the railing tightly, somewhat angry at himself, but he wasn't quite sure why. Her hand was suddenly on top of his and it felt like his heart forgot to beat for a moment.

"You're going away. And you don't want to," Lenalee said, nailing it right on the head with her words. Her gaze was on him and her hand didn't move from his.

"Yeah," he replied, chancing to place his other hand on top of hers. "Yeah, and it just ain't fair."

Her other hand came to rest on top of his and she smiled at him again. How she could manage to smile when her eyes looked so sad, Lavi would never know. But he was so damn _grateful_ for it, like she was the only thing keeping him from falling apart right there. He'd rather hold her hands for forever than be forced to let them go, to go pick up a gun and shoot at a man he might under other circumstances become friends with.

"How old are you?" she asked, her hands not moving so he didn't move his either.

"Eighteen," was his reply, his eyes taking in her supple form and young face. "You?"

"Sixteen," Lenalee answered, blushing a little. That made Lavi smile, and the two of them stood there for a few moments more with their hands resting atop one another before awkwardly untangling themselves. Then they were back to looking at the water and the birds flying overhead.

"Can I ask you something?" Lavi asked, turning his head to look at her.

"Ask away," she said, flashing him another beautiful smile.

"Well, I normally don't do stuff like this, like I said, but I figure, why not? My life isn't normal anymore," he said, and although he had the courage to ask, he still felt some heat in his face when he continued. "I mean, well, I've bet you got a boyfriend, being so pretty and nice and all, but if you wouldn't mind, would it be okay if I sent you a letter or two? I don't have anyone else really to write to…"

The way her lips curved upwards and how the light reached her eyes rivaled the bright sun above them.

"I'd love that," she said, pulling out her waitressing pad and pen from her purse. She scribbled a few things down. "And I'd like more than one or two." Handing him the paper, she leaned in a little closer to him. "And there's no need to worry because there's no boyfriend to get jealous or angry."

"You mean to say that someone as cute as you doesn't have a boyfriend?" Lavi asked, a grin tugging on his lips in a familiar way he'd almost forgotten. "Why, Miss, I'll beg you not to tease me like that!"

But Lenalee wasn't teasing after all, because that kiss they shared said more than enough: _I'll wait for you_.

**pqpq**

_I cried  
Never gonna hold the hand of another guy.  
Too young, for him they told her  
Waitin' for the love of a travelin' soldier.  
Our love will never end  
Waitin' for the soldier to come back again  
Never more to be alone when the letter says  
A soldier's coming home…_

Lavi and Lenalee walked back to the bus station slowly, hand in hand, enjoying the summer day with upturned faces toward the blue sky. On more than one occasion, their gazes met and fingers tightened over one another. Each step was one step closer to when Lavi would have to leave, and now he didn't want to leave even more than before. This time he wasn't just leaving his home and his meager family behind; this time Lavi was leaving Lenalee, who had become a prospect in his future.

Suddenly, Lavi wanted to bolt, run away, flee to Canada like that one boy a few years older than him did back when he was drafted. It just wasn't _fair_. But Lavi had no choice, his bag was in one hand and his hand that was holding Lenalee's was forced to let go and hold his ticket. Why was it like getting on this bus felt like it would be the last time he'd see her? What was he doing, anyway? What if he died out there and left her waiting? Would those beautiful brown eyes ever light up again with happiness?

One step up on the bus, then another, his ticket was taken and just one more step up and he would be gone, lost to a cruel fate much bigger than him. But the bag was dropped on the top stair and he went back, rushing to her. Good thing too, because she was already crying. His arms went around her, fully around so that she was against his chest and she fit so damned perfect that it was like they were made for one another.

"Don't cry, Lenalee. I promise you, I'm coming home. I have something—someone—to fight for. Someone to come home to," Lavi said, tilting her chin up. "I'm not going to mess that up, believe me. I'll come back."

Her arms went around his neck and they kissed again, only this time instead of Lenalee making a promise, it was Lavi: _I'll come back to you_. When their lips parted, Lavi lifted Lenalee up in the air and twirled her around, making her smile and laugh a little bit. Then her toes touched the ground and his lips touched hers one more time.

"You're my girl now, aren't you?" he asked, and she smiled.

"And you're my traveling soldier."

**pqpq**

_So the letters came from an army camp  
In California, then Vietnam…_

"A boy?"

"Yes, a boy. Come on, brother, give me the mail!" Lenalee said, standing with her hand on her hip, hand outstretched and waiting. But her older brother refused to relinquish his hold on their mail, riffling through it, looking for any letters addressed to her as he stomped back in the house.

"I'm not sure if I like this idea of my little Lenalee conversing with some boy she just happened to meet one day at the diner," Komui said, throwing a bill on the table. "And just where is he anyway?" Another bill on the table. "At college?" This time an advertisement for household appliances. "California?!" The last letter of the pile and Lenalee's heart leaped at the sight of the manly writing on the envelope.

"Y-Yes," Lenalee replied. In the letter before that, Lavi had told her he was in basic training in California before he'd be shipped overseas.

"Oh, no, no, no. Those California boys are way too perverted. I don't want you writing to him," Komui said, as if that would settle everything. Lenalee sighed.

"Oh, all right…would you like some coffee?" Lenalee asked sweetly.

"My darling, Lenalee, of course your big brother would like some coffee!" Komui replied, his guard dropping as he regarded his little sister. Lenalee was quick to grab the letter from him and she dashed up to her room to read it. "Nooooo! Not my Lenalee! She can't be interested in boys! They're all hounds! Dogs, I tell you!" His raving didn't reach Lenalee, who had locked herself in her room.

Flopping down on the soft pink bedspread, Lenalee looked at the envelope. It was army issue, she could tell by the coarseness of the paper. It had been sent from Vietnam a few weeks ago, but had been postmarked in California just recently. Lenalee was glad her brother hadn't noticed the actual address or the amount of stamps it had taken to get the letter to America in the first place. Excited, she opened Lavi's letter and read:

___Dear Lenalee,_

___Sorry it's been a while. They deployed us sooner than I thought they would. We're here in Vietnam and now I know what they mean when they say "It's nothing to write home about" because there's nothing here. It's just miserably hot and it rains all the time. Luckily it hasn't been too bad action-wise. We've only had a few altercations with the enemy, but I'll spare you the details._

___Some of the other people in my platoon have been here for a while. I feel bad for them. Some have been away almost the entire war already and want to go home. I don't blame them. I've only been here for a week and I feel that way too. But they're "veterans" here and they're showing us the ropes so we novices can stay smart and come home with all the right body parts._

___In your last letter you said that you've been accepted into your high school band. That'll be great fun for you, I'm sure. But be sure to remember me when you're looking at all those hot football players, all right? Look at me; hundreds of miles away and already jealous. I can't help, beautiful, you know that._

___Write to me when you can. We value letters around here more than anything. And yours are worth their weight in gold to me. _

___Love, Lavi_

Lenalee hurried to get her stationary and wrote back to him:

___Dear Lavi,_

___I'm sorry to hear that Vietnam is so miserable. But hopefully this letter can cheer you up a bit to make it bearable. _

___Yes, I'm in the marching band this year. I play the piccolo. I guess all those lessons finally paid off. And don't you worry; I'm too busy playing music and thinking about you to be looking at anyone else. _

___Not much has been happening here. The same old, same old, working at Lenny's in the afternoons after school. It's starting to get a little cold. I hope that you brought something warm to wear, and now that I think about it, I'm just going to worry that you forgot. Maybe I'll brush up on my knitting skills and send you a scarf and hat. Would the army allow you to wear bright orange?_

___Hopefully this gets to you quicker than yours did to me. It took three weeks or so to get here. And that's a long time of waiting. I wish there was some way to know that you were all right so I could stop worrying so much. I wish you could just come home. But who knows what tomorrow might bring. The newscasters keep talking about potential peace so you might be on a boat home soon. I pray for it every night._

___Of course, when you get home, you're going to have to come to a family dinner; no ifs ands or buts about it, you are coming and having a home cooked meal. The only problem is you'll have to meet my insanely over-protective brother. He thinks you're a student in California, and a womanizer. I'll let him think that because if he found out you were in the army, he might have kittens. _

___I miss you everyday,_

___Love, Lenalee_

___P.S. Enclosed is my high school picture. It's a good shot of me this year and I wanted you to have it so you'll have something to remember me by besides my terrible handwriting. _

___Love, again, Lenalee_

The letter was sealed up, picture inside, and loaded down with stamps, then immediately rushed to the post office. It was a few weeks later that his reply came and Lenalee's soul soured at the sight of his familiar handwriting. To her, and to him, most likely, the wait between letters was torturously long…

___And he told her of his heart:  
It might be love and all of the things he was so scared of.  
He said "When it's getting kinda rough over here,  
I think of that day sittin' down at the pier,  
And I close my eyes and see your pretty smile.  
Don't worry but I won't be able to write for a while…"_

___Dearest Lenalee,_

___First out: we've been having some tough times over here, forgive my messy writing. It's dark, but the mail just came and we're all eagerly writing away to our loved ones. We can't turn the lights on because we fear an enemy attack. So we're being really quiet and scribbling away in the dark like madmen! _

___I loved the picture. Thank you so much. I keep it with me in the front pocket of my uniform at all times. The guys actually tease me about you and they're always asking how some guy like me could end up with someone like you. And that's when I reply with "Lemonade" and they all get confused. It's my private joke to myself and to you all the way back in America. Best lemonade I've ever had, let me tell you._

The ink smeared on the paper.

___Whoops, sorry about that. Shelling. It startles me sometimes. It's like a really loud thunderstorm directly over your head. Only times that by a thousand and add a screeching train in with it. It's God-awful and happens all the time nowadays. I don't think peace is getting any closer, and that's depressing. But when it gets really, really bad, like, so bad I can't stand it anymore, all I have to do is close my eyes and think of that day we spent out on the pier. Then suddenly it isn't so bad, because you're smiling. This also works on those seemingly endless rainy days. You're my sunshine; you make everything brighter. _

___Sorry to burden you with all of this at once, but it's hard to talk to the others about it. You don't talk about it and how much it keeps you up at night. We've all got our little ways of holding on, I guess. Now I'm really lucky because I have your picture too, for those times when my memory gets a little too hazy and I need a reminder of everything I care about._

___On a seemingly more cheerful note, in your last letter (just received today, as mentioned before; so slow!), you mentioned something about an insanely over-protective older brother. Should I fear this man? He sounds serious according to you. I'm a little apprehensive about coming home to have him already disliking me, just because I happen to be 1) male 2) in the army and 3) in love with you._

___Yes, you read it right: in love with you. I know you're thinking we might be too young and too naïve to understand what love is, but I know what I feel is more than what I've felt for anyone else in my entire life before. It's you, Lenalee, whom I love and want to spend the rest of my life with._

___Yes, you read that right, too. That's almost a proposal. Almost. Just wait until I get home. I'll get a ring for you, nothing fancy, I promise. Then I'll get down all gentleman like on one knee and ask you to marry me. Then you can tell me yes or no._

___But don't tell me now, in a letter, especially if it's a "no", because I'm not going to be around for a while. We're being sent to another camp so I probably won't be able to write you for a while. But when we get settled at our new place, I'll write you again. In the meantime, I hope you're knitting that hat and scarf. I could really use them (and bright orange is my favorite color, how'd you guess?) because, you're right, it's cold over here. _

___All my love, forever and ever,_

___Lavi_

And Lenalee cried with happiness.

"Yes. I'd say yes, Lavi. Yes, yes, yes…" she said to the letter, kissing the precious pages gently, as if they were Lavi's lips against hers.

___I cried  
Never gonna hold the hand of another guy.  
Too young, for him they told her  
Waitin' for the love of a travelin' soldier.  
Our love will never end  
Waitin' for the soldier to come back again  
Never more to be alone when the letter says  
A soldier's coming home…_

"Lenalee?"

There was gentle knocking at the door. Lenalee looked up from where she had fallen asleep on her bed, seeing her brother standing in the doorway.

"Are you all right? Your face is red. Have you been crying?" Komui asked, sitting down next to her.

"A little," she said, touching her cheek gently.

She then realized that the pages from Lavi's letter were on the bed and she tried to cover them up. Komui's hand on top of hers stopped her movements. But unlike that time at the peer, his hands weren't the same as Lavi's. They were her brother's hands; someone she loved dearly, but in a different way. Lavi's hands she wanted to hold and to kiss and she wanted those hands to hold her and touch her, fingers in her hair like before…

"Still writing your frat boy?" Komui asked, picking up the envelope and looking at it. "Of course, he's not a frat boy after all. Vietnam. All the letters have been coming from there. You're talking with some soldier you met?"

"Yes," Lenalee said, sitting up, taking the letters from her brother. She pressed them against her chest and smiled, tears falling down her cheeks. "And he asked me to marry him."

Komui looked like he might fall of the planet at this bit of news.

"Marry…him…" Komui repeated.

"Yes, marry him," Lenalee said, with a determined nod. "And I'm saying yes, brother. I love him. I love him so much."

"You're too young," Komui said, face rather hard at this bit of news. "Too young to get married to some wandering soldier you just met one day."

"But it was fate, brother. It had to be. There's no one else for me but him," Lenalee said, her heart telling her that was true. "If this isn't love, then I don't know what love is."

"It's passing infatuation. You'll get over him in time," Komui said, making Lenalee stare at him with shock and sadness apparent on her youthful face. "I'm trying to spare you, Lenalee. You were so torn up over the death of our parents…what's going to happen if he's killed out there? What's going to happen to you?"

Lenalee was pressing the letters so tightly to her chest that they crumpled a little. She didn't want to hear that; didn't want to hear those words. Lavi promised he'd come back. That was the only thought that kept them both going day after day, was knowing that the war would end and they would be together.

"I don't think you should write him anymore," Komui said, standing up and heading for the door. "I think you should forget about him and move on with life. You have so much of it ahead of you."

"And it's with him, brother. You'll meet him when he comes home. I promised him a home-cooked meal and to meet the only other man in the world I could love as much as him," Lenalee said, smiling at him despite the tears that still clung to her lashes. "And he's coming home, because he promised me that he'd come back."

Komui looked like he wanted to say something, but his eyes were merely dark and sad behind his glasses and he left without another word.

_**pqpq**_

___One Friday night at a football game,  
The Lord's Prayer said and the Anthem sang,  
A man said "Folks, would you bow your heads  
For a list of local Vietnam dead."_

Two weeks or so after that discussion with her brother, Lenalee was at her high school for their last football game of the season. She was all smiles and laughter with her friends in the stands, holding instruments with cold hands.

"Lenalee, you're so happy! We're so glad that you're not so…sad anymore," said one of her friends on her right.

"I'm sorry. I just…had a lot of things on my mind, is all," Lenalee answered with a sheepish smile.

"Yeah, my dad said something about Komui having trouble with the diner. You're not closing, are you?" she asked.

"No, we're staying open. We just have to take out some more loans and everything. We have to get up to code with the new whatever it was my brother was going on about," Lenalee replied.

"Good," said Allen Walker, who was in the seat in front of her. He must have been eavesdropping, but he was so cute and nice that it didn't matter. "Because Lenny's has the best pie around!"

"All you think about is eating, Allen," chided Lenalee's friend.

"I can't help that I like to eat!" was his reply.

They went back and forth for a little while, making Lenalee giggle a little. She was just so happy that she couldn't contain herself. At halftime, the band started to get ready to do their usual half-time show, and performed it with skillful ease before resuming their seats. But the team didn't come back on the field to play. Both teams were standing on their side of the field, helmets off, looking down and forlorn.

"Excuse me, ladies and gents," came a voice over the loudspeaker.

Lenalee looked down from where she sat to see the mayor on a small platform on the field.

"What's the mayor doing here?" whispered Allen, making their entire section shrug, clueless.

"We'd appreciate if you'd take off your hats while we read a prayer and sing the national anthem," the mayor continued.

The people around them took off their hats obediently. Lenalee took off her marching band hat, pinning a strand of hair back with her usual bow-barrette. The mayor said the Lord's Prayer and then he had one of the best singers in their school sing the national anthem.

"Now, folks, I'd like you to bow your heads in a moment of silence after this list is read. These are your local Vietnam soldiers who have been killed in battle defending our country…

Samuel J. Watson.

William Barrington.

Theo Pedaleki.

Jake Johnson.

Peter Witkoski.

Thomas Wallace.

Lavi Bookman."

___  
Crying all alone under the stands  
Was a piccolo player in the marching band  
And one name read and nobody really cared  
But a pretty little girl with a bow in her hair_

Lenalee couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't believe she'd heard what she'd heard. That moment of silence shared with everyone in the stands was so suffocating that she had to leave, rushing by the stunned faces of her classmates as she ran down the bleachers. Their eyes were gone and she was alone, under the darkness of the stands where hundreds of people sat above her in considerate quiet. No sobs had pierced the night air; no one had lost anyone. They were just names of people they didn't know or might have known but not that well…one of those names wasn't someone they loved more than anything else in the world.

Choking sobs made their way past her lips as she put her head into her hands and cried, cried, cried. She cried because she loved him and he loved her, and yet he died not knowing if she cared for him as much as he cared for her. "Yes" she wanted to say. She wanted to accept. She wanted to become Mrs. Lenalee Bookman. She planned on it. She even knew what she was going to make for dinner. Suddenly roasted pork and fresh green beans and home-made mashed potatoes seemed trivial, images of that green-eyed, red-headed man she had fallen in love with flashing through her mind. What had happened to him? Did he suffer? Did he lay on the ground waiting for death and kiss her picture like she knew he would?

She ripped the bow out of her hair, letting it fall in messy strands around her. The sounds were coming back on the field and people were cheering for the team and the band was playing. And Lenalee Lee screamed because no one cared that such a wonderful man was no longer with them in this world.

And everyone was too busy to hear it.

___I cried  
Never gonna hold the hand of another guy.  
Too young, for him they told her  
Waitin' for the love of a travelin' soldier.  
Our love will never end  
Waitin' for the soldier to come back again  
Never more to be alone when the letter says  
A soldier's coming home…_

**"Is my soldier ever coming home?"**

**pqpq**

Will Lavi come back? You decide.

Leave a review and maybe there'll be one more chapter….

Maybe…(-wonders why she wrote this at all-)

Dhampir72


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: I had no idea people would like this story that much! Thanks for all the reviews; they really motivated me to write more!

**pqpq**

November 14th, 1965

It was getting colder and grayer as the days went by. Back in the states, people would be getting ready for Thanksgiving, gathering around their family tables with turkey and several courses for dinner. And they'd all be somewhere warm, lit with candles and smelling like cinnamon and pumpkin pie. Warmth, comfort, home, and family were the main aspects of the holiday. These things were nonexistent in Vietnam, huddling among dilapidated shacks and dying grass in the bitter cold. It was just barely snowing; odd for that time of year, but at least the rain had stopped. And even without the rain, the snow got to them just as much, creeping into weary bones and chilled skin beneath too-thin, too-coarse army regulated uniforms.

They were making their way to the new base camp. Lavi didn't know where, exactly. He had stopped looking at maps and diagrams, trying to figure out where they were in comparison to Sol or to the nearest harbor city. Knowing these facts would only make him want to run in that direction as far away from Vietnam as he could, hop on the first boat he found, and then trek cross-country back home, where Lenalee was waiting. He touched his chest where her picture resided; right in the front pocket of his uniform directly over his heart. How fitting for the girl who stole it.

"So this is your last one, huh, Krory?" Lavi asked, as they lay flat down on the ground, guns at the ready, watching the surrounding gray trees and grass for movement. Their platoon was resting and they were on morning guard duty.

"Last one," Krory answered, almost like a sigh, his breath coming out in a white cloud before him. "Chopper's dropping off supplies and I'm hitching a ride back to port."

"Get to go home and see your girl, huh?" Lavi asked, looking over at his comrade with a grin.

"My girl…" Krory breathed, smiling. "Eliade is waiting back home. We're getting married soon. June, probably. She wants to be a June bride."

"I'm sure it'll be a nice wedding. If I'm back in the states, you better invite me or else I'll never forgive you," Lavi said, in a teasing tone as he shifted his hold on the gun that was turning cold in the mid-morning frost. Krory just laughed at him.

"Well, it wouldn't really be a proper wedding if the best man couldn't be there," Krory replied, nudging Lavi in the shoulder.

"Oh, get the fuck out, man," Lavi said, shaking his head with a grin. "Don't mess with me."

"I'm serious. You're going to be my best man," Krory answered, in his no-nonsense, I'm-your-superior sort of tone.

"Sir, yes, sir," Lavi replied, grinning widely still.

They then lapsed into silence, searching the area with piercing eyes, numb fingers teasing the safety on their weapons as they did so. A branch moved on a tree right at the edge of the forest, where the open meadow met forest. Safety off.

"Did you…?" Lavi asked in a hush whisper.

"Yeah," Krory answered, just as quiet.

There was more movement and Lavi tensed up.

"Sergeant, what do we do?" Lavi asked, counting the numbers. Judging from how many trees moved along a certain length of the meadow, the redhead guessed more than thirty. Most likely armed and dangerous. But at least the Americans had the element of surprise on their side. Right?

"We have to get back there, quietly, and let everyone know," Krory said, as he began moving backwards stealthily, without moving a single blade of grass. Now Lavi knew why they had made a path in the first place: an escape route.

"Air support?" Lavi asked, going backwards as well.

"They're supposed to meet at the rendezvous point at 0800. They'll fly right over us if we're lucky and lend aid," Krory explained, as they made their way back to the fox hole the rest of their group was staying in. "Suit up, men, we've got enemies at our nine and ten." The bleary-eyed men quickly got on their full uniforms, ammo, guns, helmets, everything. Within seconds they changed from a group of ordinary men to soldiers, all looking stern and forlorn in gray-green.

"Be ready. We can get the jump on them early; get this done nice and clean so we can get out of here. Understand?" their commanding officer said.

"Sir, yes, sir!" everyone answered in a hushed whisper. Krory gave out orders of positioning and groups, and then they were off back through the gray grass again.

"Stay at my right and watch my back," Krory said, and Lavi nodded.

"I've got your back if you've got mine," Lavi answered, keeping as low as possible while they quickly maneuvered their way through the waist high grass.

"Always, you know that," Krory said, performing a quick handshake he and Lavi had developed during their time serving together. Krory was the one person that Lavi had come to become close with; the one person who understood when he was talking about something the others might consider emotional. And Krory was okay about discussing the things no one wanted to talk about. He was a good friend, a good comrade, and a good soldier. Lavi trusted him more than anyone.

"Let's do this for our girls," Lavi said, voice low, eyes searching.

"Right on," Krory answered, giving him a thumbs up. "The quicker this is over with, the quicker we get done here and go home. Pumpkin pie and apple cider sound real good right now."

Lavi smiled and for a moment, this cold, bleak place felt like it might not be that bad. There was no more movement. Perhaps the enemy had moved on and they wouldn't have to engage…Then shots fired out of nowhere and everywhere all at once. Disoriented, the soldiers in Lavi's platoon aimed at where they assumed the shooting to be coming from. Lavi did the same and had only fired twice when something caught him sharply on the right side of his face. He swore loudly, causing more attention to be aimed their way. The other two soldiers with them fell dead. Lavi, clutching the right side of his face, pulled Krory down as another round of shots were fired at them. A hot pain tore through his side before he was down on the ground, partially on top of Krory, almost like a shield. And then it was crimson pain and blackness for the longest time, ringing of gunfire still overhead.

"Lavi! Lavi!"

He was moved from his position, then on his back. Hands on his shoulders, shaking him, making his head hurt. Lavi tried to open his eyes, but was met with unbearable pain that was so intense he could barely make a sound.

"Don't move, don't move…!"

The voice commanded him so and Lavi obeyed, pressure applied to the ride side of his face, making the pain sear, causing his hands grip at someone's wrist with cold, shaking hands.

"You're all right, you're going to be all right—!"

More gunfire and someone was leaning over him. Lavi managed to get his left eye to crack open and he could only see Krory's face looking down at him. Then there was more pressure, this time on his left side, something that made him nearly scream. It felt like he was falling apart…

"Lavi, stay with me," Krory said from over top of him, pressing his side. There was still shooting, but the gunfire was drowned out by the roaring of something else. Swirling, Lavi could only think, his mind half-way gone. It sounded like something swirling. The word "whirring" was beyond his range of thought at the moment. _Helicopter_ came faster. _Safe_ came next.

Talking, talking, people rushing by, Lavi wasn't sure what was going on, staring up at the gray sky with one usable eye. It was so ugly, not like that day…a memory flashed before his eyes, of blue water and white clouds and a girl in a yellow dress, so beautiful and so happy. Smiling. Checkers on the dress and a matching bow in her hair. Black hair, dark almond eyes. A smile that he couldn't forget. But the pieces weren't fitting together right, so he could only see parts of her in fragmented pieces and not the whole picture. A nametag, she had a nametag, he knew that. _Lenalee_. Lenalee? _What a nice name_, he could only think, smiling a little. He knew her and he knew that he had to tell her something important. Something…important. What did she look like? He wasn't sure, his hands moving of their own accord to his breast pocket. Something smooth, flat. A photograph, and suddenly her face was before his eyes, smiling frozen forever. Beautiful. Lenalee. Lenalee Lee, the girl he loved and was going to marry, if she said yes. Would she say yes? Lavi's thoughts were jumbled, confused, but her happy face made him smile with crimson lips. _My girl_.

"What do you mean there's not enough room?" Krory was shouting at someone near them.

"The injured have to be left. All able-bodied men are to leave," came the answer from somewhere far away.

"I can't do that!" Krory said, still pressing firmly on Lavi's side, making the redhead's fist nearly crumple the photograph in pain.

"They're orders," said the voice. "Leave him and get on. We don't have much time. We can only hold them back for so long."

"I can't! I'm staying!" Krory replied, making Lavi furrow his brow at the older man.

"Stay…ing?" Lavi repeated, slowly, painfully.

"Lavi, oh, God, you're all—yeah, I'm staying; not going anywhere, man. Staying right here, like I promised: I've got your back," Krory said.

"…no…" Lavi forced out, his body settling into a strange sort of numbness. He was suddenly tired, lips almost too heavy to move. Like marble or granite. But he had to get it out before he was cast in stone forever. "Go…Eli…ade…"

"I'm not—!"

"Sergeant! Now!"

Krory was crying—Lavi knew that much—and Lavi was trying to push him away with whatever strength he had.

"Not…mad…" Lavi said, attempting to let Krory know he wouldn't be upset with him if he left. "…do me…a favor…instead…?"

"Anything," Krory said, leaning over to hear him better, as Lavi was sure his voice had gotten soft. He couldn't help it, as his chest was so heavy he could barely breathe. But he knew that he had to give it to Krory, the thing he had dreaded doing, but had done it anyway.

"My…front pocket…" Lavi said, trying to pat it, his hand still clenched around the picture of Lenalee. Krory went into that pocket and pulled out a thick envelope, staring at it with something on his face Lavi had no name for at the moment.

"This is…" Krory murmured.

"…my…girl…please…" Lavi forced his heavy hands to lift up and place on top of Krory's. "Needs…to get…the last…one…" He managed to smile somehow. "Tell her…I love her…didn't die…hurting…m'kay?" Tears were falling down Krory's face and Lavi could only think of how much they looked like snow. "…give her…this…" He fumbled with the dogtag around his neck. "…for me…please…"

"O…kay…" Krory managed to get out, tucking the bloodstained letter into his coat pocket and yanking the tag from Lavi's neck.

"Thank…you…sorry…about the…wedding…" Lavi sighed, eye settling closed as his hand fell limply over Krory's. "She'll…be a…beautiful…June bride…"

"Yeah…" Krory said, and Lavi felt his hand remove the helmet he wore so that he could run his hand through whatever remained of his red hair. It was a comforting gesture to a dying person, Lavi thought, in a strangely rational manner.

"…my girl…would have been…too…"

And then Krory was gone and the sounds of the helicopter got further and further away as the snow continued to fall down like tears.

**pqpq**

Lenalee hadn't come out of her bedroom since she had gotten home that Friday night. Luckily, it was a half-week before a holiday so she didn't miss that much school. But that didn't matter to her; nothing really did. She sat in the corner of her room in the dark, curled up and crying. It seemed like she couldn't stop, knowing that the redheaded boy with the kindest smile she'd ever seen was never coming home. Lenalee would never feel his hand in hers again, or the way his arms fit perfectly around her. He would never pick her up and twirl her around, calling her "beautiful" ever again. And she would never hear him say "I love you" in person, just as he would never hear her reply "I do."

Komui was worried, Lenalee knew. He had enough problems to worry about, like their house payment, and the loans on the diner. Too many to be worried about the death of a soldier boy no one really knew. But he was trying to comfort her, and Lenalee was grateful, even though she didn't need comfort. She needed Lavi. And Lavi wasn't in this world anymore. That knowledge alone was enough to cut her like a knife, slowly whittling her heart down into what would eventually become mere nothingness. She was wasting away on the inside, wanting him. Waiting for him to come home and fulfill his promise…And Lenalee cried because she couldn't hate him for not being true to his words. It just made her love and miss him even more than ever, hating the cruel fate they now shared: one in death and the other in life.

Thanksgiving went by and the normal meal that Lenalee cooked for her brother and the few close friends they usually had didn't happen. She was too tired and just too _sad_ to be thankful for anything. After all, what was there to be grateful for when the only person she had truly loved in her life and would have probably loved for the rest of her life, was now gone?

Somewhere between the stretch between Thanksgiving break and Christmas break, Lenalee went back to school, but didn't care. She couldn't find any heart in anything, and that worried her friends and classmates. Allen Walker more than anyone else.

"Are you all right, Lenalee?" he asked, sitting down beside her one day at lunch. His blue eyes were staring at her intensely.

"Fine," she answered quietly, staring at nothing in particular.

"If you're sure. But if you ever want to talk…" Allen said, and she felt the warm brush of his hand over hers. "I'm always here."

"Thanks, Allen," Lenalee said, hating herself for thinking that Allen's hand wasn't Lavi's.

And Lavi's was the one she yearned for the most.

**pqpq**

The first snow fell and Christmas break came along, cheerful as usual in their small town. Lenalee could barely muster the strength to put up a tree, but Komui wouldn't stand for a holiday without one. They decorated it together, Komui doing his best to be comical by tangling himself up in the lights, or wearing a goofy hat, but none of the smiles Lenalee could muster ever reached her eyes. He noticed, and his eyes got a little sadder and older too.

"Lenalee…" Komui said, making her sit down next to him with some eggnog. He put his arm around her shoulders. "I know you're…sad and not dealing with this well…but you need to…move on. Wouldn't he have wanted that for you? Surely he wouldn't have wanted to see you never smile again."

"I know…" Lenalee answered, after a moment, in a small voice. "I just…need time…it's too sudden. I can't…get over him…that fast…"

Komui hugged her and was going to say something else when the doorbell rang. He looked somewhat surprised, but got up and went to the front of the house to answer it. A few minutes later, he came back, with a man in uniform following behind him. Lenalee's heart leapt for a second at the sight of it, but it wasn't Lavi. It was a tall man with dark hair and a white streak through it, most likely from stress, as he looked quite too young to have gray hair so soon.

"Are you…Lenalee Lee?" he asked, looking somewhat nervous.

"Y-Yes," Lenalee answered, surprised.

"I-I'm Arystar Krory. I was the sergeant and the commanding supervisor for Lavi Bookman's platoon," he said.

"Please, sit down," Komui said, quite nicely, offering him the comfy chair by the decorated tree. Krory sat, looking nervous as ever. "Coffee, tea? Eggnog?"

"No, thank you. I'm fine," Krory answered, then turned back to Lenalee. "I've come to…fulfill Lavi's…last wishes."

"Last wishes," Lenalee repeated, her throat feeling swollen, eyes already hot with tears.

"I…was with him when our unit was taken by surprise during our camp relocation," Krory said, looking down. "He was…injured in the crossfire. And…he wanted me to give you these." With that said, Krory produced two items: a letter and a dogtag, both smeared with dried blood. Lenalee reached for them with trembling hands. The tag was cold in her palm. Heavy. It said:

_**NAME: LAVI BOOKMAN**_

_**AGE: 18**_

_**BLOODTYPE: O**_

_**ID: 4568809-345**_

The tag stared up at her with the hard truth. Lavi was gone; the proof was in her hands. Something so tiny and so seemingly insignificant served as the evidence of the end of Lavi's life. She brought it to her chest and held it there for a moment, closing her eyes. Lavi had worn it, everyday. It was like holding a piece of him, almost. But it was a piece that she didn't know. It was the army part of him, not the part of Lavi she knew and remembered. The Lavi she knew smiled at her with green eyes that lit up when looking at her and only her, his smile something that seemed to say "I love you" without speaking.

The letter sat on her knees. She didn't want to read it yet. That would make it final. Too final for her to handle right then. Wiping at her eyes, she slipped the cold chain around her neck and tried to regain some kind of composure. At least Krory had been considerate during her few moments, as Komui had been. But when she looked up, her brother was gone and it was just her and the other soldier in the room. His eyes looked sad and haunted, rather shiny now. Was he close to tears as well?

"I-I'm sorry…" Lenalee said, wiping at her cheeks again, as the tears were coming unbidden. "I just…"

"I know…" Krory answered, his voice sounding choked.

"I don't want to ask, but…" Lenalee said, trailing off, not knowing how to ask. How cruel would it be to wonder if Lavi had been thinking of her in his last moments?

"He told me with his last few breaths to get these to you," Krory answered her unasked question quietly. "He wanted you to have that last letter. It was important to him. He said…he loved you." Lenalee couldn't wipe away the tears fast enough.

"Did he…" Lenalee tried to get out, but she couldn't say the word _die_ no matter how much she knew it to be true. "…suffer?"

"He didn't…seem to be in pain," Krory answered, looking at his knees. "It started out that way—painful, that is—but he had your picture right here." Krory put his hand over his heart. "And when he looked at it, it was like just seeing your face…made it not hurt so much." Lenalee's shoulders were shaking.

"How…what happened to him?" Lenalee asked, managing to ask.

"He was shot," Krory answered, eyes still downcast. "Twice. Our group went down and it was just me and him against the enemy. He…pulled me down on the ground. But by then he…"

"He saved you?" Lenalee asked, glassy eyes widening marginally.

"Yes…" Krory answered, smoothing his hands over his pants. Those hands had been there for Lavi's last moments. Had they been trying to save Lavi's life the entire time? Had they been kind enough to hold his hand as his life left him?

"Where…is…" Lenalee choked back a sob; she couldn't say the word _body_ either.

"We…were forced to evacuate," Krory answered painfully, then continued almost like he was on autopilot. "We couldn't take any injured with us." Lenalee's breath caught.

"You…left him there?" she asked, almost accusingly.

"We…had no other choice," Krory said.

"Yes you did! You could have—had to have had a choice!" Lenalee cried, her voice rising.

"If I had any other choice, I would have taken it," Krory replied, expression tortured. But Lenalee wouldn't listen to his excuses.

"Was he even…was he still alive when you left him there?!" Lenalee asked, voice louder now. She heard something from down the hall, most likely her brother coming to see what was the matter. "Did you abandon him there while he was _still breathing_?!" Krory met her eyes for a moment, looking anguished, before dropping his head into his hands.

"Yes," he said.

"How could you!? How could you, his friend?! You LEFT him there! He was still alive and you just ran away! How could you?! HOW COULD YOU?!" she shouted, causing Komui to come bursting into the room. He was just fast enough, grabbing Lenalee around the middle before she could launch herself at the other man. It was out of character for her to get angry—want to hurt someone so much—but she couldn't help the rage that burned inside her at the knowledge that maybe Lavi could have been treated and maybe he wouldn't be…

"Calm down, Lenalee. Just calm down," he said, using the voice he had used when she was a child and upset from a nightmare. If only she'd wake up from this one.

"No! NO!" Lenalee cried, trying to get away from him, tears falling down her face without restraint. "He left Lavi there! He left him there! Why did you do that?! WHY?!"

"You think I don't regret it?!" Krory answered, standing up suddenly, looking angry himself. But he was crying too, and Lenalee knew he was telling the truth. Krory had been Lavi's friend. He had lost someone important just as Lenalee had. "I dream about it every night! I see his face and that goddamn smile of his and it's like I'm back there again!" Krory slumped down in the chair, hiding his face. "Do you think I would have willingly left my best friend there?" Lenalee's legs were shaking with the effort of keeping her upright, and she crumpled down to the floor, Komui easing her down so she didn't hurt herself.

"…I'm sorry…" Lenalee said, tears still falling.

"I'm sorry, too," Krory said, looking up at her. "I tried to stay, but he told me to go without him. He told me to go because I had to get this to you. It was just that important."

The envelope looked so heavy and final sitting on the edge of the couch. Lavi's last wish was contained in those few pieces of paper inside. His last words to her. How painful had it been to write?

"Thank you," Lenalee said.

"And thank you," Krory said, pulling out a box from his pocket, which he handed to Lenalee. She took it and looked inside. A medal: a purple heart. Something awarded to soldiers wounded in battle. "I know it'll never be as good as having him here, but at least you can know…he…died with honor." Krory stood up and gave her a sad smile. "And he died loving you with everything he had." A person who fought and defended, carrying within them the love for the one other person who gave them strength.

A true soldier.

**pqpq**

Lenalee went to her room after Krory left and sat down on her bed, holding the letter in her hands. Her fingers trembled at the lip, not wanting to open it, but at the same time knowing she had to. She had to know what Lavi had so desperately wanted Krory to give this to her for. Opening it was the hardest thing she had to do, the paper harsh and stiff, unforgiving. Inside were a few sheets of standard army-issue paper folded in thirds. Holding her breath, Lenalee opened them and saw that painfully familiar handwriting.

_Dearest Lenalee,_

_If you're reading this, it means I'm gone. It hurts, I know, but no matter how hard it was to write this, I needed to put it on paper so it could get to you if something went awry. And it did, or else you wouldn't have this letter in your hands now._

Lenalee's eyes were tearing up again, but she hastily wiped them away.

_I wanted to say that I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Lenalee. I didn't mean to do this to you. I never should have gone into Lenny's that day. I never should have asked you to talk to me. I never should have promised you something that was beyond my control. And though I did all of those things, and would do those things all over again, the one thing I shouldn't have done was leave in the first place. I should have never gotten on that bus and driven away from you. Because I'm sure you felt it too; that insecurity that settled in your chest at the thought of the future._

She could remember well, watching him disappear from the station, wondering if she would ever see him again. The thought of him coming home in a casket rather than walking through her front door, alive and well, weighed heavily on her heart everyday.

_I thought I'd live long enough to do my time and get out and be on that first plane home to you. But I was wrong. I'm so sorry I wasn't strong enough to make it through this thing alive. And I was so motivated by your letters, and your picture, and your memory that I thought nothing could hurt me. This was only reinforced in battle when people I knew died, but I did not. I felt untouchable because your love was my strength. But I'm also a boy, which means I'm stupid, and I slipped up. It's all my fault I'm not with you now._

"No," Lenalee said out loud, eyes overflowing with tears. "It's not your fault. It's not your fault…!" How could Lavi think he was to blame for all of this? It wasn't his fault, but he'd never know because she'd never be able to tell him.

_Even though I grieve for what I've done to you, I'm selfish and, if given the chance, would have done everything over again, I wouldn't change a thing. I would have still gone into the diner and met you and kissed you and held you in my arms, promising to come home. And for that, I apologize, my dearest, but you gave me so much fullness and life and purpose that I can't help it. I love you Lenalee Lee, and no second chances can change that. _

Lenalee gave a sad smile. She wouldn't have had it any other way either. Even if never meeting Lavi would have taken away some of the pain she felt now, Lenalee knew she would have had an empty place inside of her that she would never be able to fill. It would have been over the loss of a person she had never met, but was meant for.

_I'm gone now, and I know that you might be sad because of it, but I need to tell you to not feel that way forever. I want you to do what I did while serving: I went on with life, missing you, but my love for you gave me the strength to live through another day. Please, do that for me. Live your life to the fullest, keep smiling that beautiful smile of yours. You have no idea how that smile is like a light of heaven in this dark and dismal world we live in. _

Tears came of their own volition. Lavi's words were so beautiful, and so piercing. Lenalee felt like her heart was ripping to pieces just reading it, how much he cherished her.

_Know that I love you, and always will love you. And with this knowledge, go on and do wonderful things in your life. I want you to be happy no matter what._

_Smile, love. Smile for me, if nothing else._

_Eternally yours,_

_Lavi Bookman _

Inside the last page were a few photographs. One was of three men sitting outside playing cards. The one with the big smile and green eyes was Lavi. He looked different because his hair had been nearly shaved off, but it was still him. In his hand, he was showing the cameraman his full house with an excited countenance. Lenalee's lips tilted upwards slightly, her fingertips touching his face gently.

The next picture was of Lavi and Krory, both in full army gear, holding up their guns. They were standing in front of a sign that someone had hastily scribbled on the back of a folder "MANLY MEN". It almost made Lenalee laugh, seeing them like that. She could see the twinkle of amusement in Lavi's eyes despite his serious face.

The last picture, however, was a professional shot that the army took to give to the family to display on their wall at home. Despite the clearness of this shot, Lenalee didn't like it. Lavi looked too serious, and her attention was more drawn to a Polaroid that was behind it. It had been taken on a bus somewhere, probably the one that took Lavi to basic training. His hair was still long and he was smiling for the camera. In front of him, he held a scrap of paper that read "FOR MY GIRL". In the white beneath the picture, he had written: "when I was still pretty". That made Lenalee choke back another laugh. She was crying again.

Lavi was really gone. Gone for good and never coming back. She tried to smile like he asked her to do.

But she just couldn't.

And somewhere halfway around the world, the boy she grieved for was thrown back into his cell at a Vietnam prisoner camp, injured and starving, but very much alive.

"_Don't worry, Lenalee. I'm not going to break my promise."_

**pqpq**

Yeah. He's alive. There were more votes for his living than perishing, so I went along with what you asked for. Hope it was satisfactory; let me know with a review. Hugs are good, too. I like hugs.

**Dhampir72**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note**: Wow, guys. Guess it's been a while, huh? I realized just the other day that this fanfiction was left incomplete. I'm such a bad person XD Thanks for all your patience and your awesome reviews: zenbon zakura, Lt. Commander Richie, Jasaiya Hawkins, Neejie, crazykilt, blueballad, reader, Eleannor, Cormick, Astaline Nihtingale, BlueFox of the Moon, Akira Johnson, silverfire113, whatthehellwasithinkin, xplacebo, TeChNoLoGiC, spotsgiol, CHoCoDoLL, .simplicity, aya, Lucy-Kira, deletedpetals, jam2599, DragonScale, Nush-Mish, TodundLeben, poisoncoacoa, Cess007, asdfasdfg, Lord-Hermione, and everyone else for your favorites/alerts.

**pqpq**

_Cold_.

That was all he could think. It was bitter cold. Beside him, men trembled from the temperature as well, like him in nothing but the tattered remains of their uniforms. Their eyes were dark. Icy, almost. Others were broken, sad. He had to wonder if they saw the same thing in him. Was there defeat in the green eye not hidden by dirty bandages? Shaking his head, dirty once-red hair brushed against his shoulders. _No_, he told himself. In his filthy hand he clutched at a photograph, staring at the smile he craved more than anything. Even food, water, a _bath_. Even more than the ridiculous orange scarf she said she was knitting.

_Lenalee_.

Her name—Lavi kept having to say her name over and over again—was something that kept him functioning. If he didn't, the pain and hunger and cold would get to him. His expression would empty and his hope would be gone like some of them. Lavi couldn't let that happen. He made a promise; one that he was going to keep despite everything that opposed him, even the men with guns outside. His determination did not waver in the slightest. All Lavi focused on was getting back home, back to his girl who wore that bow in her hair and that smile that had been elevated almost to the same level as breathing air.

"Fuck this," someone muttered. Another person coughed. All of their breath rose up in clouds before them, except for the boy in the corner, who had died sometime during the night. They sat away from him, not looking at the still form. They couldn't face what might happen to them in the cramped, unsanitary cells. What waited outside was worse. It was all about surviving another day, just to live through another night, in order to do the same thing all over again.

Someone came in yelling in Vietnamese. Lavi quickly tucked the picture away so they would not take it from him, not knowing how he would go on if he didn't have the comfort during the nights of Lenalee's smile. Instead, the redhead solemnly stood with the rest of the prisoners, barefooted and freezing, as they were led for another round of torture. Pointless, bruising pain. Yelling, beating, fingers broken. The wounds that had been treated upon his arrival to this hellhole had healed enough to sustain the daily abuse. He just experienced twice the pain as everyone else, his right eye throbbing and bleeding into the disgusting gauze around his head; the injury to his side that made his body seize up in agony when it was struck.

But when they hit him, Lavi did not fight. When they kicked him, he did not rise. When they thrust his head beneath the cold water, he held his breath as long as possible. When they shocked him, he thought of the sunny day out at the pier, with his hand in Lenalee's. Shelling overhead, his feet on a dirty floor, and then finally back into the cell for the remainder of the night. No food, no water. His stomach gave a weak whimper of protest; his broken fingers wailed in silent agony within him.

Another night, another day, another night, another day. More men dead, more cold, cold nights. More broken fingers. More staring at Lenalee, wanting, wishing, hoping to go home.

"Do you remember…what food tastes like?" asked a cellmate one night. He was a young kid, maybe around Lavi's age. The Vietnamese soldiers liked kicking him around more than the others. Lavi had the terrible suspicion that they raped him in the back room where he disappeared during the daily torture sessions. It was unfortunate he had such a pretty face.

"Shut up," said the man next to Lavi. Oriental accent, maybe Japanese. Lavi thought his name was Yuu. Or maybe that's just what people called him: _hey, you_. Angrily, the dark haired man who may or may not have been named Yuu, finished: "Or I'll kill you."

"Don't be such a bitch," said the boy across from them, pushing dirty hair from his face.

"You're the bitch," said Yuu. Dark eyes went darker and the boy fell silent, looking down. Everyone sat in quiet for the rest of the night, not wanting to say anything else. By the time evening fell the next night, the boy was lying on his side, his forehead bleeding from a wound that had been inflicted upon him in that dark, back room. There was blood on the seat of his pants and Lavi felt his heart clench as his fears were realized.

"What's your name, kid?" Lavi asked, going over to him. No one would get close to him. He'd be dead soon, they all thought, so it was no use, but Lavi couldn't stand by and watch anymore. His swollen fingers pulled at some spare cloth on his pants leg, pressing it against the wound on the boy's forehead in an attempt at a tender gesture.

"Timothy Hearst…" he said, trying to move away from Lavi's hands, but the redhead kept him still.

"That's a good name," said Lavi in reply, maneuvering Timothy's head on his lap. At least that way they could be warm. Gently doing his best to clot the injury, Lavi continued: "Where you from?"

"North Carolina," Timothy answered, closing his brown eyes. He looked so relieved that someone was speaking to him, taking care of him, so Lavi continued to ask him questions quietly, ignoring the stares of the men around them in the cell. He was so small and so young, probably wrenched away from his mother's clutching hands, her weeping, sobbing chest. "Thanks," Timothy said, after everyone had fallen asleep.

"For what?" Lavi asked, removing the cloth from his forehead. A gaping hole was directly in the center of his brow. It bubbled and bled outwards once the pressure was gone, so the redhead hastily covered it again, even when the liquid soaked through and coated his fingers in sticky crimson.

"For being so nice," Timothy said with a small smile.

"No problem, kid," Lavi said. By morning, his smile was set in stone and his chest no longer rose and fell with life. Lavi held the dead boy upon his lap without crying, even though he wanted to. Timothy had been so young. It wasn't fair.

It just wasn't fucking fair.

"Do you think…anyone is coming for us?" Lavi asked, through a swollen lip and black eye sometime a few nights after Timothy's body had turned cold and been carried away. He shivered to think of that kind boy in a shallow grave somewhere in this God-forsaken country.

"No," said Yuu, because his name was Yuu after all. His eyes were black as coal in the dark and Lavi looked down and away.

"You got a girl at home?" Lavi asked. Yuu didn't answer, giving Lavi the opportunity to pull out Lenalee's photograph again. It was worn, dog-eared at the corners. There was a crease down it too, but her smile was still resilient as ever. "I've got a girl at home. Waiting for me. Said she was gonna make dinner when I came back. And I said I was gonna marry her." Lavi gripped at his hair, his eye hot; the right one stung as it bled into the bandage. "I really wanted…to marry her…"

Yuu said nothing.

**pqpq**

January brought school again, which led Lenalee back to high school. Her eyes were sadder now, gait slow and lethargic. She tapped her pencil in class and didn't take notes, staring out at the white landscape beyond the window during lecture. Gossip, girl chatter, and Allen Walker's constant concern were the things she desperately wanted to escape. She didn't want to talk, or be spoken to, or do anything at all. Her days at the diner were long stretches of time without smiles and shaking hands that carried cooled plates of pie to hungry customers.

At home, Lenalee sat in her room and read, and reread the letters from Lavi over and over again, despite knowing them by heart. She looked at the pictures and tried not to think about the redhead she'd fallen in love with, out on the battlefield where he had died so alone and abandoned. Lenalee felt a flicker of anger inside of her that was quickly extinguished. Krory hadn't had any other choice. He had to leave Lavi behind, even if he was _still breathing_.

"Lenalee," said Komui, one late night when she was already tucked into bed and trying to sleep. It never came to her, but she went through the motions anyway. Showering, dressing in comfortable pajamas, and then lying down upon crisp sheets for another sleepless night. Komui noticed. Her brother always noticed.

"Yes," she answered in quiet reply. The mattress dipped slightly as he sat down next to her. Her back to him, she was grateful she didn't have to meet his gaze.

"I…do you…do you need to talk with someone about this?" Komui asked.

"No," she said. "I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine," Komui countered.

"I just need time, brother," Lenalee said, stopping her tears momentarily by sheer force of will. Beneath her pillow, her pale hands clutched at Lavi's crinkled letters. Around her neck, the cool metal of his dog tags rested against her heart. The heart that had stopped beating when he died.

"Are you sure?" Komui asked.

"Yes," she said, her tears falling silently in the dark. "I'm sure."

**pqpq**

Lavi lost count of the days.

There were so many days that blurred into too many long-suffering nights. The men in the cell next to theirs had been executed the day prior. Everyone had been ushered outside and forced to watch as a firing squad took down men in their ragged fatigues. Some prayed to God. Some wept. Others stared forward with their chins held high. They were all gunned down, sending a bloody mist skywards. It wasn't the artillery that was the most disturbing; it was the sound of their bodies slumping to the ground. It was watching as their life poured out of them and onto the ground, onto the flags upon their arms that they had fought so hard for.

Their battle was finally over.

"We're next," Yuu said, the night after it had happened. They were nursing injuries, huddling for warmth as the Japanese man said this. A heavy silence fell over them and all Lavi could hear was the sound of their breaths in the small space.

"I don't want to die," said the man next to Lavi. Everyone shook their head in agreement as Lavi pulled out Lenalee's photograph again, rubbing his thumb over the creased surface.

"Me neither," Lavi whispered softly in the dark, folding the picture and placing it back into his pocket. _I'm sorry, Lenalee_ he thought, placing his palm over his heart. _I'm sorry I had to break that promise to you. I thought that maybe somehow, someway, I'd get out of this, but…_Heart still beating with life and will, Lavi looked up at the men who shared his prison. They were all from different places, different backgrounds, different races. But they were all men and they all had something to live for.

"I," Lavi began, bringing everyone's attention to him. It was something he hated: staring. It reminded him of the day he'd gone into the diner looking for something to drink. The intense stares from the crowd had been far from his mind after seeing her smile. The smile he so desperately wanted to see one more time.

"What?" asked Yuu gruffly, staring at him fixedly.

"I'm not…I'm not a religious man," said Lavi quietly, looking down with his only eye. He bit his lip. "But maybe…we should pray."

"Why would we do that?" Yuu asked. It wasn't meanly, it was merely curious. The men—no, they were really boys like him, weren't they?—had the same expression upon their own brows.

"Well…" Lavi said, a bit uncertainly. "Whoever your God is, or your Gods are, or even if you don't believe in any God at all…something….something has kept us alive up until now. Something wanted us to have time. Maybe something wanted us to be saved…" Lavi pulled out Lenalee's photograph again with gentle care to stare at her image. "Maybe something wanted us to have a second chance."

"What's the point in praying, then?" asked Yuu. "If we don't _get_ our second chance?"

"To give us hope," Lavi replied, a small smile upon his lips. "For just one more night." He pressed a tender kiss to Lenalee's photograph. The man diagonal from him made the sign of the Cross, whispering the Lord's Prayer beneath his breath. The boy beside him began to mumble to himself in Hebrew, holding onto the hands of two others in their cell. Beside him, Yuu looked around uncomfortably, tugging at a long strand of his lanky black hair.

"I don't…know how to pray," the man admitted, leaning close to Lavi so to not interrupt anyone around them.

"Neither do I," Lavi replied, just as quietly. Lenalee returned to his breast pocket and his two dirty, bloody hands instead held Kanda's. "But I think I know how to start." Yuu closed his eyes; Lavi followed suit.

And they prayed.

**pqpq**

It was Valentine's Day when Lenalee found herself in the school counselor's office. She shuffled her feet against the white floor, listening to the sounds outside in the hallway, of girls giggling as they ran passed with boys' names upon their lips. It smelled like flowers and chocolate and young love just about to bloom. Such a pity that hers had shriveled and died so quickly and in such infancy.

Across from her, the counselor—Ms. Anderson—sat, waiting for her to speak. She had nothing to say. There was nothing _to_ say. The love of her life was dead and gone and she was left to pick up the pieces. Lavi had said in his letter to her that he wished he never walked into the diner that day, so that he could have spared her the heartache. But then when he went and said later on that he was selfish and would have done everything over again, Lenalee couldn't more heartily agree. Despite the pain, she had been so happy when Lavi was alive. Her ring finger felt empty and her mouth was dry.

She never got to say "yes."

"Is there anything you want to talk about, Lenalee?" asked the kindly woman across the expanse of a wide oak desk.

"Not really," Lenalee answered, tucking some hair behind her ear.

"Your brother is worried about you," Ms. Anderson said. Lenalee stared stubbornly at the mug of pencils on the counselor's desk instead of into her eyes. She couldn't do that without crying. Just like she couldn't look at the letters Lavi wrote her or the metal that sat untouched in its black box on the windowsill. Her eyes felt hot just thinking about it. "As are some of your classmates."

"I'm fine," Lenalee said, her voice as hollow as her chest.

"Talking about it might make you feel better," replied the other woman.

"No," said Lenalee, looking up at her with tears in her brown eyes. "No it won't."

**pqpq**

When he awoke, it was to sunshine. Clean sheets, fresh air. Flowers somewhere, distant. The sounds of people walking, speaking outside. Carts rattling. Breathing, beeping, a window open allowing the breeze inside. Transparent tubes dripped clear liquid in rhythm. Down, down, dripping, dripping. His brow furrowed, slightly annoyed at the sound. Body aching, head hurting, he wanted nothing but silence. Silence and something else…but he'd forgotten the words, random pictures in his mind of something he could barely remember.

"These are the prisoners from the Vietnamese prison outside of Sol," said a woman's voice, ringing with clarity in the room. "We have five identified. The other three are John Doe until they wake up. No dog tags on any of them." The sound of a man's low tenor replied. "Of course. I'll let you know immediately if there is any change." With that said, footsteps hurried away down the hallway until he couldn't hear them any longer. Instead, it was all the other noise followed by the sharp clack of a woman's heel on linoleum floors. A long stretch of time passed where he listened to her check on other occupants of the room before she finally was before him, her green eyes wide in surprise.

"Y-You're awake!" she cried, immediately setting out to checking him over, moving his aching limbs more than he felt she had to. "How do you feel?" she asked.

"Thirsty," he murmured, glad when she brought him a drink of cold water. It felt like he hadn't had something to drink in a long time.

"How are your injuries?" she inquired when he'd had his fill, turning to furiously scribble away on her clipboard.

"Kind of…hurts…" he managed to say, and she nodded without pausing in writing.

"I'll up your pain medication," she informed him, stilling her pen. "But you're going to be in a little bit of discomfort for a while. Those soldiers didn't know there were prisoners inside until the last moment. A lot of you were injured."

"Prisoners?" he repeated, not understanding. He couldn't remember anything about a jail. But then again, he couldn't really remember much about anything at all.

"Yes. You were a prisoner of war," she said softly, touching his bandaged head with a sympathetic look.

"Oh," was all he could manage to say. Her expression turned into something he had no name for.

"Do you…remember what happened?" she asked.

"No," he said honestly, an unsettling feeling sinking into his body. His injured head ached as his brain struggled to find information hidden in the dense fog of his mind. _Don't ask that question. Don't ask…_

"Do you remember your name?" she inquired, his fears realized.

"No," he answered, closing his eye against the sun and her eyes and the beeping, ringing, clattering sounds around him. "I don't."

**pqpq**

I'm so mean.

More to come.

**Dhampir72**


End file.
